


the kind of lover you would never leave

by patientalien



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin the dope-slut, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:43:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/pseuds/patientalien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin is taken captive by Granta Omega, and this time the stakes are a little higher as Obi-Wan searches for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the kind of lover you would never leave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citizenjess (givehimonemore)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/gifts).



> Written for citizenjess, because nobody but us write Granta Omega fic. Title from "Heroin Girl" by Everclear.

It’s not some dank dungeon or fetid slave hold that Anakin Skywalker finds when he opens his eyes, but a stark and sterile room, all gleaming durasteel and bright white lights. He’s strapped down to a metal table by his wrists, ankles, and chest; the cold bite of the air tells him he’s entirely nude. His first conscious thought once all of this registers is, ‘Not again. Obi-Wan’s gonna kill me.’

His second conscious thought is that he needs to try and escape, but the straps are tight and his grip on the Force is tenuous. He considers yelling, but decides that would be a futile effort. Instead, he looks around trying to come up with some way of getting himself out of his predicament.

There’s nothing helpful in his immediate field of vision, though the broken circle emblem on one of the cabinets lining the walls tells him exactly who is holding him. The realization sends tremorous chills up and down his spine. Just as he focuses himself inward to try and control his suddenly erratic breathing, the door of the room slides open and his captor enters.

"Awake so soon?" Granta Omega asks, striding over to him. "Your tolerance had increased since last we met. Tell me, Anakin, have you been practicing?" Omega’s voice is slimy, and he traces a finger down Anakin’s cheek, gripping his jaw and forcing his head upward, to meet his cold gaze.

Anakin knows better than to speak immediately, to defend himself verbally against Omega’s accusation. He grits his teeth as Omega continues to slide him hands down his body, wincing as Omega skims ticklish sides, biting back a gasp at the tweaked nipples, the finger slid down the length of his exposed cock. “You’ve been working on your mouthiness too, I see,” Omega says with a feral smirk. “Good boy. I think you deserve a reward.”

Anakin wants to snarl that he has no desire for anything Omega could offer, reward or otherwise, but stays his tongue. He knows what Omega’s punishments are like; the whip marks never did go away entirely. He just needs to draw this out as long as he can until Obi-Wan gets here, that’s all. Because Obi-Wan will always come for him.

Omega turns away from him, opening the cabinet and pulling out a vial and syringe - Anakin blanches. “I’m sorry for the old fashioned equipment,” Omega says, returning to Anakin’s side. “Hypo injectors aren’t easy to come by on worlds like this.” He prepares the injection and Anakin desperately tries to tap into his Force connection again, trying to sense his Master. But Obi-Wan could be worlds away for all Anakin knows, and Omega is wrapping his arm with a tourniquet now. “I think you’ll like this, though, Anakin,” he says softly, sliding the needle in. He depresses the plunger and the world melts away.

———

Before today, Obi-Wan Kenobi could have counted on one hand the number of times he’s really and truly lost his Padawan. To his dismay, he now has to utilize the other hand. Of course in any other galaxy he shouldn’t have to use ANY hands because as a Master he should know where his Padawan is at all times because said Padawan would not be the disobedient, willful, and entirely too overconfident Anakin Skywalker.

However, much as Anakin’s destiny is to one day bring balance to the Force, so too is it Obi-Wan’s destiny to constantly feel out of his league with this whole Mastership thing. Anakin is brilliant in many ways, and getting into trouble seems to be how that brilliance has chosen to manifest itself most recently. It hardly seems fair; Siri Tachi never has to worry about HER Padawan disappearing in the middle of a diplomatic mission.

Still, Obi-Wan has a sense this isn’t just another of Anakin’s spurts of wandering. There is nothing in this city, or even on the planet, that would catch Anakin’s interest enough to take off during a short break in the proceedings. No racing subculture, no nightlife, no garbage pits or abandoned droid foundries. Nothing to entice a wayward young Padawan with a knack for consistently being where he doesn’t belong. Thus, when the initial anger wears off, Obi-Wan starts to worry and when one day becomes two and Anakin still hasn’t emerged from whatever misadventure he’s unearthed for himself, Obi-Wan apologetically, but firmly, puts a halt to the negotiations for the time being, and starts to search.

———

He can feel something inside of him, filling him. Something else is around his cock, keeping it erect. His wrists burn, his shoulders hurt. His jaw, forced open by a crude metal ring, aches. The back of his throat feels raw. But over it all there is a glistening haze, a heady sense of arousal and desire and a deep, inescapable, euphoric sedation. It feels good here, Anakin decides during a brief moment of lucid thought. Maybe everything will be all right.

——-

No one seems to remember exactly when Anakin had disappeared. One moment he was there and the next he wasn’t, which admittedly isn’t much to go on. Obi-Wan reaches out through their training bond, and though he can’t quite pinpoint a location, he can sense a muddled confusion, a strange sensation of arousal and fear. It’s then he realizes where Anakin had gone, and what the stakes now are. With renewed vigor, he narrows his search.

——-

The boy has natural stamina, and the drugs only serve to heighten what nature has so generously bestowed. “If only your Master could see this,” Granta Omega croons softly, nestling his hand against Skywalker’s scalp, pressing his cock deeper into the boy’s mouth and throat.

Skywalker’s eyes, glazed and lusty, flick up to meet his gaze and there is a wanton desire in his distorted reflection. Good. The dope-slut; everything before now has been leading up to this. Skywalker now seems ready to give up on escape, ready to give over to Omega’s every whim. He’s not sure what’s happened since the last time, but whatever it is has primed Skywalker nicely.

"We’ll be leaving soon," he says. Skywalker’s eyes widen in alarm for a brief moment, but then he slides back into dazed complacency. "Good boy," Omega says as he comes against the back of Skywalker’s throat. "Good boy."

——-

Obi-Wan Kenobi does not panic easily. It’s a skill he’s developed over many years, out of necessity. Still, he is certainly inching up there the longer his search for Anakin takes. He can tell from the sporadic images he’s getting from the mostly-quiet training bond that Anakin is being held by Granta Omega, which makes things monumentally more difficult. Omega is gifted at blending in, at being unseen in plain sight. No one remembers if he was ever there.

Days are passing and Obi-Wan knows Omega’s tricks. He knows the longer Anakin is there, the harder it will be to get him out, and the more difficult the recovery process will be. Time is not on his side at the moment, and each dead end leads him further and further towards that unwanted fear.

Granta Omega himself may not be memorable, a void where a person should be - but his company is. Rather, his father’s company. Obi-Wan spends an entire day going through public records, looking for any trace of Xanatos du Crion’s corporation, and another two days knocking on doors at any address that comes up as being associated. Three days doing grunt work on top of the days that had already passed, while Granta Omega is doing Force-knows-what to his Padawan. Except Obi-Wan has a pretty solid idea of what he’s going to find, he just hope the damage will be reversible. 

——-

"And what did I tell you?" Omega asks him. He’s not sure how long he’s been here, everything has been blurring together. Except now. Now he’s mostly-lucid, now the last dose had been weaker than the others, and he’s regaining the ability to think. Not well, not enough to think about escape, but enough to realize that it  _hurt_ to think. 

 _And what did I tell you_? Omega had asked him just now. It takes a few repetitions of the words in his head to remember what they mean. “You said,” he says, carefully, “I get… full dose…” Oh  _kriff_ , he’s shaking. 

"You get the full dose once you’ve done what I’ve asked," Omega croons, sliding a hand down the side of his face. It’s a new game, one that just started today, and Anakin isn’t sure why. They’d both seemed pleased with the arrangement as it stood previously, he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly being tortured like this. "And I want you to get on your knees."

The air is brutally cold - he doesn’t remember it being cold before now. If he has to get on his knees in order to feel better… Obi-Wan would be so disappointed in him. He knows the thought will go away as soon as Omega has made good on his promise, so he sinks to the floor. 

——-

Desperation is not a very Jedi-like emotion, but Obi-Wan thinks perhaps he could be given a pass due to extenuating circumstances. He’s nearing the end of his list and he hasn’t found evidence of Granta Omega or Anakin at any of them. The sick dread that they’ve gone off-world sticks in the back of his mind; if that’s happened, his task will be monumentally more difficult. He realizes that the time to inform the Council is fast approaching; if he doesn’t find his quarry soon, he’s going to need to admit defeat and ask for assistance. It’s the last thing he wants to do because he doesn’t want anyone else to see Anakin in the state he’s sure to be in when he is finally found, not based on his last few encounters with Omega.

He thinks he may have a break, though. Granta Omega does not make any imprint in the Force, but suffering does and someone in this building is suffering. A reach deeper into it’s eddies and suddenly it becomes clear that this is ANAKIN’S pain he is feeling. He circles the building, small and squat, probably no more than three rooms large, unless there is some underground bunker beneath his feet (which would certainly not shock Obi-Wan in the slightest). The only windows are mere slits just below the roof line, there is only one door.

He’s faced worse odds of success, but not by much. Reaching out with the Force, he opens the door.

——-

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. He’s bent over the table he’s been strapped to off and on for the past however-many days, his arms bound straight up from his back, his legs lashed to the table legs. He can taste the metal gag in his mouth, feel the rough leather of the collar around his neck. He can feel the bruises up and down his arms from the injections. He feels his cock pressed painfully between the table and his stomach. He can feel Omega slamming into him, over and over. He wants to feel nothing, so he lets Omega continue. “Please,” he tries to whisper around the gag.

Omega grunts over him, but fumbles out a hand, grabbing up a syringe and slamming the needle hard into Anakin’s ass cheek. The relief is immediate and Anakin sags against his bonds and lets Omega finish. He’s too far gone to notice the door sliding open.

——-

There are no words for what he sees when he opens the door. No emotions that would encompass everything he is currently feeling. Rage. Dismay. Disgust. Fear. Anakin, his precious Anakin, is sprawled across a metal table, cheek pressed flush against the surface, eyes open but clearly not lucid. He doesn’t even blink when Obi-Wan appears. Omega, on the other hand, moves instantly, extracting himself from Anakin and plucking the needle from where it had been sticking, obviously forgotten after the dose.

Obi-Wan doesn’t move to counter immediately. He’s not sure what Omega’s plan is; the man is dangerous - far moreso, Obi-Wan has come to realize, than his father. Xanatos was planning and scheming and order. Omega is chaos and pain for the sheer thrill of it. Xanatos had wanted to seduce Obi-Wan. Omega wants to destroy Anakin. With that in mind, Obi-Wan is cautious. “It took you longer than I expected,” Omega informs him blithely. “I was beginning to think you’d tired of your little toy and I would get to keep him.” He smacks Anakin’s ass and Anakin moans lustily.

"He is not my toy," Obi-Wan manages to get out. He’s figured out that the table is not electrified, the collar around Anakin’s neck isn’t attached to anything, the hook on the ceiling that Anakin’s arms are roped to is stationary. Anakin won’t be in immediate danger if Obi-Wan acts, and so he does, drawing out his lightsaber and advancing. He’s missed something, though, and Anakin screams in agony as Omega flips a switch on the wall. Obi-Wan reaches out with the Force and returns the switch to it’s original position, keeping it there. Anakin’s screaming subsides.

"You can’t escape," Obi-Wan informs Omega. There’s only one door, and Obi-Wan is in front of it. Omega smirks, and moves, faster than Obi-Wan could have thought possible for a non-Force users. "Don’t try it!" he warns, unnerved by the wild gleam in Omega’s eyes.

"I thought I’d get to keep him this time," Omega repeats, and now Obi-Wan can see the trio of syringes in his hand. "But since I can’t keep him…" They’re stuck deep in Anakin’s thigh before Obi-Wan can react. Anakin’s eyes, previously simply dazed and heavy-lidded, have rolled back into his head and he’s starting to seize on the table. It’s an easy decision to make and Obi-Wan lets Omega run out the door in exchange for helping his Padawan. The knots are complicated and he ends up just breaking through Anakin’s bonds with his lightsaber, drawing the boy into his arms.

"Shh," he says. The narcotic antagonist that is part of his field kit has never been used, though he’d come close the last time they’d encountered Omega. This time he injects Anakin with it immediately, careful of the bruising track marks along his arms and on his hands. 

Anakin’s convulsions subside and he blinks sleepily up at Obi-Wan. “M’naked,” he slurs matter-of-factly and then falls asleep across Obi-Wan’s lap.

——-

Obi-Wan is the most thorough man Anakin has ever met, so he’s sure his Master collected samples of whatever drug Omega had given him throughout his captivity. He just needs to figure out how to get his hands on it, that’s all. It’s a long trip back to Coruscant and Anakin’s skin is positively crawling. He can’t get clean no matter how many showers he takes; everything hurts, he can’t sit still. He can’t sleep, Omega’s face keeps appearing in his head, taunting and hurting. 

If he could just get his head right until they got back to the Temple, everything would be okay. Then he could detox in the Halls of Healing and go back to how things were before. He just needs to convince Obi-Wan that this is really the best idea. Luckily, he knows a little something about being convincing. 

"Master," he says, pitching his voice low, husky, as he approaches the galley table Obi-Wan is currently sitting at, looking intently at a datapad. "Master, hey." When Obi-Wan looks up, Anakin licks his lips. "I was thinking…" He moves closer, working hard to move his hips sensually. "I was thinking…" He’s not sure exactly what to say. That he’s dope-sick and needs to get right until they’re back home? That he’s willing to suck Obi-Wan off in order to do that? He swallows heavily. "I was thinking," he says, a little stronger, "that we don’t know if going off that stuff so fast is gonna be… harmful." 

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “And you think if I just let you have it until we’re back at the Temple, things will be all right?” he asks, as if plucking the thoughts right out of Anakin’s head. 

"I could make it worth your while," Anakin offers softly, looking down at the floor, inching closer. "Whatever you want, just… Master… it  _hurts_.” He’ll do anything to ease the pain, to get that oblivion again until he can be really and truly Healed. It’s not fair Obi-Wan’s denying him of this, it’s not fair! Obi-Wan has  _no idea_  what this feels like. 

He flits his eyes upward, but Obi-Wan is just staring at him. “Oh, Anakin,” he says, sounding so sad. Anakin has done this to him. He wants to disappear. He’s itching for another hit, to make this all go away, but Obi-Wan looks so damn disappointed in him. 

"Master," he tries again, and this time he does slide to his knees in front of his Master, looking up at him plaintively. "Master, please."

Obi-Wan puts his hands on Anakin’s shoulders. “Do not ask this of me, Anakin,” he says, voice shaking. “Do not push this.” It means he wants it, Anakin thinks. It means he wants it and can’t admit to it. He moves closer, parting Obi-Wan’s knees so he can slip between his legs, hands moving towards the waistband of Obi-Wan’s pants. “Anakin, no!” Obi-Wan exclaims, jerking away abruptly, standing. 

Anakin stands too, clenching his fists in impotent rage. The Force still is a little slippery to grasp, but it’s coming easier and easier and Obi-Wan’s datapad flies off the table to shatter against the wall. “ANAKIN!” Obi-Wan shouts. 

Making a noise of wordless fury, Anakin stomps out of the galley. 

——-

The trip back to Coruscant is one of the most stressful things Obi-Wan has had to endure. He’d thought he’d hidden the drugs well, locked them up securely, but on the second day he’d found Anakin slumped against the wall, his boot lace wrapped around his upper arm, the needle still sunk deep into his vein. 

After that, he keeps it all on his person at all times, taking careful inventory every hour. Anakin figures it out quickly enough and all but begs Obi-Wan for it. He’s ridiculous in his pleas, promising blow jobs and sex and anything else he can think of - all of the things Omega demanded of him, none of the things Obi-Wan would ask for. Not that he would trade Anakin’s well-being for his own pleasure, but Anakin seems to think he would. 

The thought that Anakin is associating him with Omega like that, presuming one is like the other, knifes at him. Hasn’t he treated Anakin better than that? He knows it’s not really Anakin, it’s this damnable drug, the addiction mingling with the trauma making Anakin highly irrational and entirely too willing to degrade himself further. 

After the third time Anakin tries to coerce him in the same day, he sends the boy to his quarters and locks the door from the outside.

——-

Anakin spends a week in a deep healing trance. Obi-Wan fears that it won’t work, that he’ll wake up just as damaged as when he’d gone in. Vokara Che assures him otherwise, promises that the work they’re doing will make things right again. Obi-Wan isn’t so sure; Jedi methods don’t always work on his strong-willed Padawan. 

Still, Anakin wakes with clear eyes, is able to hold a conversation, claims to be feeling better. He still jumps at shadows a bit, still puts himself in immediate range of any door. But gradually even this fades away. Obi-Wan tries to get him to talk, but Anakin has none of it. Perhaps it’s for the better; Obi-Wan has never been good at dealing with strong emotions properly anyway. 

——-

Anakin slips out of his bedroom window and lands gracefully on the permacrete below. Tugging his hood up to hide his features, he heads down to the deep lower levels. 

Everything seems muted down here, and that suits Anakin just fine. He’s been working especially hard at the Temple, convincing everyone that he’s gotten over what Omega did to him. And he has, mostly. He only wakes up thinking he’s tied down three or four times a week instead of multiple times a night, now. But there’s still the ache, the itch in the back of his mind that can only be scratched in a very specific way. 

Obi-Wan never needs to know. Because down here, Omega’s brand of currency reigns, and if nothing else, he has taught Anakin how to be a very, very good boy.


End file.
